


Arbutus [Erwin x Levi EruRi]

by kirishemai



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Childhood Friends, Eruri Week, Fluff, High School, Lovesickness, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Top Erwin Smith, Younger Erwin Smith, Younger Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 02:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30132915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirishemai/pseuds/kirishemai
Summary: Erwin seems to be in love with a boy he once met in India when he was very young. But he finds himself forgetting his first love and might start loving a beautiful man who has height insecurities."A boy with dreamy black hair suddenly came flashing in my mind, then I remembered. The void, the uneasiness, the broken feeling was because of that boy. I forgot him but it seemed like my heart couldn't do so. I hated myself for forgetting someone who was my everything. I punched the pillow (it wasn't the pillow's fault, sorry pillow-san) and ranted in my head for as long as I could remember."
Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Erwin Smith
Kudos: 3





	Arbutus [Erwin x Levi EruRi]

(There will be a tiny note in the end of this long chapter >\\\<)

\---------

Spring has arrived and the schools have started to open their windows and let the morning sun enter. As they dust off the dirt from their students desks, they think of the short moments they spent with their students known as classes, but those classes were what the students thought of as an eternity. 

We high schoolers might have had the chance to enjoy school a lot more if we were given more freedom. Freedom as in, the girls wouldn't have to worry about their skirts being too short so that the male students won't pry on them. Or freedom as in we could choose to come to school whenever we felt like without having to worry about attendance or completing our assignments(oh how fortunate). And maybe if romance between the same gender wasn't considered a crime, some of the rainbow community might have had a much better time in school. That may sound certainly cliché, doesn't every other person have these thoughts the very moment they get up for school? But may I ask what is cliché? If I was to answer I would certainly say that it is a thought that is mentioned or used quite often. Hence, isn't this what most of us desire? Isn't getting a taste of freedom with some wildness without getting judged from the idiotic minds of others is what we all want? 

For a second let me just think about myself. What is it that I want and why is that so. 

I want everything to be simple. This world, the people, the inventions, everything, has become so wretched that sadly, I don't even know where to start. People are afraid of being judged hence they hide their fears by judging others. Why is that so? The only way for you to stop from being pushed down is by not letting others down. If only I could just change the minds of others, speak to them, get them out of this hell cycle of killing others to make their life longer then maybe living would be worth it.

My utopia is not any different from a middle schooler. It's simple. It would be wonderful if people were not allowed to be sad or live in pain. If wifi was free and we had flying cars. With flying cars and a good navigation system we'll have less traffic on roads. Masks will no longer be needed in big cities if there was no pollution. There's a lot that I wish but what's the point of it all? This is not our world. It's theirs. The rich. But the fact that it is us normals that have made them who they are makes me feel better about myself. 

So as I'm getting up before my alarm even wakes me, I think "this world, who's is it? Is it ours or theirs?"

\--------------

5:28a.m. 4th April 2019

You might think I'm a psychopath for getting up before my alarm even rings, but I'm sorry to disappoint you that I am indeed just an excited teenager who has a very enjoyable part time job to go to this early in the morning. No, my parents are not dead, I don't particularly have any financial problems, I just like to work in this place. Also, no, my love interest is not a coworker of mine there, I repeat, I really like my job. I also get up early because when I was younger, there was a person who got me up early, since then it's been a habit.

What is my job you ask? I'm a gardener in a public garden. 

There is something about being around plants that makes you want to be a better person. You see how each plant has a deeper meaning to their names? Anemone is not just a beautiful flower, it means more than that. The flower speaks to its audience about its pain and grievances. Therefore giving it the symbol for agony. Roses mean love and Coriander signifies lust. But among all these plants, I would say the meaning of Arbutus is the most thought provoking. If I too had a meaning, perhaps living wouldn't feel like a waste of time. 

I wouldn't say I am some helpless romantic, but maybe I am a little bit interested in the topic of love. But I don't understand it very well. How do you love someone when you can't even love yourself? I reached out to the internet for help but all they told me was about self love and how I should love myself. My question wasn't how I should love my being, but why I should. Since the Internet couldn't give me the answers that I was looking for, I decided to take help from these plants that I truly love. 

It's funny how these plants were given a meaning by us humans. What an honour it would be to ask them if they prefer to be given meaning by us or if they would be more pleased by giving themselves meaning to the world.

My thoughts wonder as I get up from my bed. Today is another usual day, but that is for now. My whole life changes after I accidently spill out something from my mouth. The thoughts that I had been keeping to myself for years all come out in one simple sentence. And that one sentence is what will change my whole being. 

I get up from my bed and sit for a while. It was not long ago that I noticed my iron was low. So suddenly getting up or doing a physical activity makes me feel dizzy and nauseous. Once I'm done with the session of 'oh let me sit for a little bit longer since I don't want to suddenly get up and feel dizzy and slam my face against the wall' I get up and go towards the toilet. My mom is still sleeping in her room which is just below mine, so I make sure every step of mine is as quiet as a cherry blossom landing on my hair. 

It would have been a delight if i could turn on the radio and listen to some classics but sadly we don't have our radio at the moment because my dad took it with him to Hokkaido. Without having the need to disturb my mom, I plug in my ear phones and start listening to some indie music. I quickly wash up, get dressed (into my high-school uniform) and head down towards the kitchen to make breakfast. The breakfast was just rice with tonkatsu and green tea. I pack my bag, kept a novel and my sketchbook for me to make use of incase I have free time, a chapstick, and my other books and stationary. 

My cycle is waiting for me outside and I am getting there to it. I don't know the model of my cycle and neither do I know names of cars, bikes, etc. People have this misconception or a stereotypical thinking that boys in general are so in love with transport. If they are given a toy car for their birthday oh how happy they would be! The delight in their eyes when they receive a fire truck toy! No. No. Have we forgotten there are boys who like collecting packets of cheetos? There are boys who spend hours, enjoying, and consuming themselves in star gazing. Boys who love the art of classic acting. The word "manly" has been made such a huge importance for men and boys, that boys who love collecting butterflies, or boys who love making dolls, can't help but keep their hobbies silent. Manly, girly, ly, ly, ly, these lys are what stops us from what we tru-ly are. Isn't the fact that we are human and that there are small things that make us happy, enough? 

I love swords and guns, but it makes me feel nauseous when someone tells me that I am manly for liking them. Neither am I manly nor am I girly. Because the moment I tell them I love plants, all the manliness they thought I had just goes away in the speed of light. And the worse part is they make it seem like being or acting girly is a negative thing. Their thoughts, their ideals, their concepts, all of them are actually not theirs. Society has made them think and feel in such a way that neither can they speak properly, nor can they think properly. They are not allowed to think. You have to talk like this, you have to dress up like this, you have to like this gender, you have to like this form of genre, you have to have this hobby, you you you you. What is the meaning of life when the people around us have already made the meaning of it without our permission?

Huge billboards will write quotes about saying- it is your life, you have one life, go enjoy, go do what you want, get some freedom. Can I? Are you sure I can do that? Will you say Erwin you have done amazing, I am so proud of you that you shoved your tongue down a boy's throat, you finally got to do something you wanted to do, oh how proud I am! Sadly, I am very sure you would never say that. "You" as in society. People. Despicable creatures in other words. I am a single, petty, horny, teenage boy, please let me rant. I am tired. I really am. Who would think a 17 year old boy would have so many complaints so early in the morning. Speaking of morning, I have to go to my part time job.

I get on my cycle (the one I don't know the model of) and head towards the direction of my part time job. The garden that I work at is not far from both my home and my school. It's a beautiful place with beautiful plants in it. It is indeed the only garden in Osaka that has an Arbutus tree. The only reason why I am working in this garden is because of this tree. 

When I was a child, my parents took me to India for just a month to learn about different cultures and arts. I learned most of my English there despite my parents being fluent in it but never spent time with me for me to truly catch up on the language. And I made a friend too. I don't remember his name, but I did remember gaining a lot of knowledge from him. 

He was the first and last friend I made in India. It was on the day we arrived in India that I met him. We were supposed to be living in his family's house. When we arrived at their house, my parents told me that they had a beautiful garden in the back and that I should go check it out while they unpacked our respective luggage. 

It took me a while to find the backyard because their house was extremely big. When I found the garden, the first thing I saw was a Lychee tree right at the corner even though the garden was filled with mango trees. It would have been hard for a full grown adult to see it as the placement of the tree was confusing and it would have been difficult to notice. But with my height every single tree felt like just another cloud. Huge, visible and beautiful. 

The garden was big so going to the corner of it just where the small Lychee tree was placed was a little tricky for me. I didn't want to be exhausted because my parents had made plans to go out after unpacking. But I decided to go towards it anyways because if not now then when? 

After walking for a few minutes I finally got to the tree. It didn't have a lot of fruit but I wanted to taste them without fail. Just as I was plucking the fruit I heard footsteps. I looked around and saw no sign of a person or an animal. I thought my parents had come to get me but I didn't see anyone. I proceeded in plucking the fruit till someone tapped on my shoulder. I looked back and saw a boy. He spoke to me in an unknown language. I later found out he was speaking in English. 

I looked at him in silence, then he took a few steps and started plucking the Lychees. He put them in his pocket and then held my hand. After that the only thing I remember is him taking me back to the house and my mom telling me that he will be my friend from that day onwards.

My parents and I lived in that boys house during the one month we stayed in India. His father was an old friend of my father's, none of them are Indian but got to reunite in this land. Perhaps they were classmates in the days of their youth. They spent hours doing research or talking about a species that was newly discovered. My parents never included me in their conversations even after knowing that I was very interested in the places that they visited and the different cultures they got to experience. I was never given an explanation to why they acted towards me in such a way. But my loneliness was soon forgotten when the boy talked to me. My thoughts are not clear, I only remember his dark slick hair and after that, we spent the rest of our days together. He gave me the answers to all my curiosities. Some days we would go to the backyard and have some lychees. He was more fond of mangos but he never chose to follow his opinions when i was next to him. His support was my everything. 

He felt more like a babysitter than a friend. My parents would be somewhere else and even cancel their plans with me for their personal plans. He knew I was not happy with the way they treated me this way so he tried his best to make sure he always kept me company so that I won't feel lonely. 

I caught on to the language really quickly. We could have short conversations together and I could ask him little things like what we would be having for dinner, or what we were going to be playing. He too tried his best to make me learn English as fast as possible because the time we had together was limited. He also told me that the very tree where we met wasn't a lychee but it was an Arbutus tree. It doesn't grow in India so it's considered a rare find and has been given great care. Within a month everything will come to an end and we won't have anything but some memories together left to be remembered. He didn't teach me Hindi because he understood that learning Hindi might not be as useful as learning English because English is a language that would help me internationally too. For such a young boy, his witty mind was always a surprise to me. 

We shared the same room and ate together. He prepared breakfast for me and the other meals were made by the household. The meals I had were full of fun. Sometimes we would take our plates and go to the Arbutus tree where we had met and eat under it.

He took full responsibility for my well being. My parents didn't mind me spending so much time with a boy I just met because they had a lot of other things to do and new people to talk to.

He would wake me up when I was in a deep sleep. The sun never once rose when he would tell me it was time to get out of the bed. His morning smile was enough to wake me up. Even the best dreams I had couldn't compare to his morning smile. You've been sleeping for so long! Get up Erwin! These words never bothered me. I loved sleep more than anything when I was a young boy. But after I met that boy, the comfort I found when i slept didn't compare to the comfort I found when I spent time with him. After he got me up, he would tell me to quickly wash up and have breakfast that was prepared for me while he was preparing for our lessons. At that time I wasn't allowed to be with my parents because they were busy and my presence would be a bother, therefore I was kept in the same room as this boy. He probably understood that I wanted to know more about this foreign land that I had entered. His lessons were never divided into subjects. Some days he would teach me how to survive in a desert alone. Then some other day he would educate me on music. On special days we would go outside, far away, to a mountain, or sometimes to a river, and he would tell me everything. How the name of the mountain was chosen or why the river has a particular type of fish. His small body seemed to hold so much experience and his brain had a lot of knowledge that even in a lifetime I wouldn't dream of being as smart as he was.

He and I were of the same age, but he felt so much more adult like. I never saw him show any form of weakness. He was slow to anger and quick to forgive. I made countless mistakes, enough to get him into trouble, but he always took responsibility. He never once made me feel like I was alone. 

Even when I got bullied for my hair color by the other kids in the locality, he would always scold them for making fun of such a beautiful feature. He told me my hair reminded him of the sun, it was bright and shiny and made him feel very warm. The children would call me names and all sorts of words that I had no knowledge of in Hindi. Never was I hurt by what they said, because not only did I not know Hindi and what they said, I was also happy that they bad mouthed me because it gave me another reason to be supported by that boy.

I don't know if it was love that I felt for him or was it pure admiration. It was his very existence that I liked. The beautiful songs that he sang and the vast knowledge about the lands that he held, I wanted to be a part of them. I wanted him to know more about me, talk more about me and think more about me. He had occupied all my thoughts, that I too wanted to be a part of his thoughts. 

I can't recall his features because I was probably eight or nine when I met him. What I do remember is that he didn't smile often and he had the most beautiful dark hair, it felt like a calm romantic night. Neither do i remember which one of us was taller or who was thinner. The very thought that I spent time with him was enough to make me happy.

Some days we would go out in the depth of the night to the balcony. We would take a bamboo carpet with us so that we can sit comfortably and talk. He loved stargazing and I loved seeing his eyes glitter with delight seeing the shining stars. He would tell me that whenever he was afraid of being alone he would look out of his window and talk to the stars. What he did that day and why he felt lonely, he would share them all to the stars without fail. 

I remember asking him why he would tell me this, when he was supposed to be sharing all of his innermost feelings to the stars. He looked at me, the moonlight hitting his face, and he smiled while saying, perhaps you shine brighter than the stars and I feign ignorance towards them and only look at you while telling you my thoughts. I paused for a few seconds and then asked him. So you're telling me you ignored the stars and are looking only at me because I glow incredibly? If that is how you understand then yes was all he said. By the time our conversations would end, bed time would arrive and drive us towards our bed.

That boy made me sleep on his bed and he slept on the floor, his back resting on a thin mattress and a blanket which was not enough to make him warm. He could have slept on the same bed as me or asked the house for a thicker mattress but he did none. He lived in such a big house with countless rooms so why did he sleep on the floor? I didn't understand why he would make himself suffer for my personal happiness. If he had really understood me, he would have realized that his comfort would have been my happiness. I requested him a countless times to rest on the same bed as me but he would always reject them. We were both of the same age and social class that when he treated me like a king it made me frustrated because he too was just a king of another land. 

I may have been his guest but I was not some God landing on earth. I was a traveler not holding any knowledge of the land I was visiting. He was my guide, the person I trusted even when I was blind folded, the person who I would allow to have authority over my life, that was how much I trusted him and looked up to him. But rather than acting like my guide he acted like my servant. 

To make him notice that he was special to me I would try different things. I even asked my parents how to make someone happy. They told me that I should get them things they liked or spoke to them in a way that would make them happy. 

I only remembered him telling me that he loved two things. Stars and my sun like hair. An amazing idea clicked and I started making his gift. 

I don’t remember what gift it was that I had made for him or what his reaction was. If I ever get to meet him in the future I'll make sure to ask him. But that thought too seems to be a foreign dream or some unspoken fantasy. 

A month passed in the blink of an eye. The hours I spent with him under the Arbutus tree talking about city life, the countless memories we made with stars above our heads, the smiles we shared and the vast knowledge of the land he educated me on soon came to an end. I knew that we wouldn't be able to be together forever because our homes were different, but when we were together, even for a short second, it felt like we shared the same home. Being in his company was home enough for me. He was the first and only person who enjoyed my company without having to create a smile for my content. 

On our last day, as we were outside the gates of his house with our luggage going in the taxi, he simply gave me an Arbutus keychain with a black box to keep it in. He then told me that he bought it in the market with the money he had saved from family festive meetings and his new years allowance. I felt uneasy that he spent all his money on a gift for someone as insignificant as me but at the same time I was very delighted because it was my favorite fruit. Or maybe I was delighted because it was him who gave it to me. It made me happy that he remembered something about me. The keychain was a bright red glass in the shape of an Arbutus. The sun's rays on it made it look even brighter and beautiful. I loved it. I thanked him for giving me such a beautiful thing and that I'll keep it safe with me till I die. Then he told me:

Before you leave, I want to ask you a question. He spoke. What is it? I asked. Do you know what plant symbolism is? The meaning of plants? I answered rather confused. Yes, and Arbutus too has a meaning. When you learn the meaning of it, take it as my feelings for you. I understand, was all I could say. His eyes were fixated on mine. I didn't know if I should give him a hug or if a wave of goodbye was enough. I did none and then got into the car in my parents' command. The boy didn't smile and neither did I. None of us cried but our eyes could speak out the sorrow we felt while parting.

I didn't understand what he meant by the feelings he had for me. He could have told me anytime if he had negative or thoughtful feelings towards me. What's the point of confronting me now of all times just when I was leaving? And not even saying it face to face but speaking through an inner meaning of a fruit? I was in a confused state of mind that even when we were in the taxi heading towards the airport, I had no idea what he meant when he said those words.

When we got onto our flight, I asked my father if he knew the symbol of Arbutus and he told me that he did know the meaning of it. It meant - my love is only for you. It is often used when your loved one is leaving and meeting them again may not be a possibility. So they say Arbutus as in- you are the only one I love because even when you leave, I will continue to love you without fail. He asked me why I wanted to know, so I said there was no particular reason. I looked out of the window, and then our flight went for the skies. 

The feeling I had at that very moment was confusion. My face was flushed and at the same time really surprised. I was not confused about the fact that we were both boys, I was confused because I saw no part of me that was worth liking. My looks would not be considered attractive. I didn't think my blue eyes were attractive because I was called a monster for it in school. Neither did I like my straight hair nor my thick eyebrows. So what was it that he liked about me? Then a thought came to my mind. It might have been my hair. He loved my birthmark so much that he often kissed it or ruffled it. I took it as an answer, that he loved me for my hair. I was not very satisfied with this reason for liking me but I suppose the fact that he liked me was enough to make me happy. 

The memories we made together came flashing to me bit by bit. Why he would overwork himself just to make breakfast for me, or how he would stay up later than me reading something so that he could share it with me the following day, or when he would take my hand and rush towards the garden whenever my parents told me not to bother them. I realized that he did all of this as a form of affection towards me. He liked to keep me safe and I too found comfort and safety when I was with him. 

So, that was how my first love and summer days ended. I only realized that I was in love with him after his presence had left me. Even after wishing that we could be together, I knew it was not possible. My parents are male and female and that's how I was born. If it was not for their sex then I wouldn't have been born and would have been deprived of the happiness I gained through meeting that boy. The right thing was to fall for a girl and be happy with her. That was what I thought at that time. Now? We'll see.

When we went back to Japan, after a few months I forgot about him and later on entered high school. Even though we're not Japanese we live in this countey because of my fathers job. He is a professor teaching Humanities in the university. And my Mother does research work so they're also never at home.

I dated girls and their company was comforting. But there was something lacking in the relationships that we had created. I thought I loved them but later on I realized that it was the form of dating that I liked. Dating felt almost like a deal, I'll give you the utmost care that I can possibly give and in return, I want you to fill the disheartened feeling that is in my heart. Sadly, they couldn't do it and I didn't blame them for it. I moved on.

I went from one girl to another, I even met people from the same sex as me. I often visited Tokyo for the sole reason of meeting another man, but neither was I satisfied nor was I happy from within. They never once gave me the comfort that I had received a while ago. I couldn't remember what that comfort was so I continued searching for it. Schools were changed, new people were met, had a couple make overs, but what was it the point of it all? Who was I trying to impress? I no longer felt the need to do anything at a certain point. I changed schools for the last time and started my second year of high school there. Once I had given up on everything, things started to change. There was something revolving around me, something new, something worth changing for. 

The boy didn't come to my mind even once after many years had passed. He didn't visit me in my dreams and I suppose I didn't visit him either. His presence was no longer valid because everyday I woke up to feeling nothing but emptiness. That time I didn't know the reason to why I felt so empty. Little did I know that the empty space in my heart was reserved just for that boy. 

\----

A few weeks ago, on a Sunday evening while I was watching the news channel, the reporter stated that a new garden will be opening soon. It is said to have the only graden with an Arbutus tree in Osaka. When I heard the word Arbutus it felt like deja vu. It was my favorite fruit but there was more to that. A deeper meaning to why I liked it so much. 

A boy with dreamy black hair suddenly came flashing in my mind, then I remembered. The void, the uneasiness, the broken feeling was because of that boy. I forgot him but it seemed like my heart couldn't do so. I hated myself for forgetting someone who was my everything. I punched the pillow (it wasn't the pillow's fault, sorry pillow-san) and ranted in my head for as long as I could remember.

Then after my session of self loathing, I ran towards my room and opened a small box that I had taken with me from my trip to India a few years ago. The box was in the back of the closet along with my unleashed art. When I opened the box, the keychain was still there, the chain a little bit rusted, and the color fading. I laid down on my bed, the keychain held high, the sun kissed the red glass-like keychain and it reflected on my face. My memories of him didn't come flashing through my mind like it did in the movies. There were fragments of memories of him that I barely remembered. Some were about him laughing shamelessly when I fell in the river. Or some memories were of him crying with me because of a book we read together. I looked at the keychain and our secret spot in the garden came to mind. The garden was filled with mango trees, but there was one special tree that we had absolutely loved.

To remember the forgotten moments I spent with him, I went back downstairs with a paper and pen, the TV was still on, the news of the garden still ongoing, I saw a phone number for the purpose of calling if interested for a part-time job or a full-time job. 

I called them and then I was asked to come to the location for an interview. They asked my age, seventeen, smoking habits, none(why would a seventeen year old say yes even if they did), any financial problems, none, and lastly they asked me why i want to take up this job. It was understandable that they would ask me such a question since I was not of legal age and neither did I have financial problems. For a job like this, I thought to myself, the answer they would want should be based off of the truth. I prepared myself mentally for what I was going to tell them and I began- a boy at the age of a middle schooler visited India with his parents a long time ago. He fell in love with someone there but didn't confess because he wasn't sure of his feelings for them. One thing he still remembers clearly about the both of them was that they loved Arbutus. They spent hours under the trees and found comfort in each other's companies. On the day he was leaving, he was given an Arbutus keychain from the person he loved. The person told him that the symbolism of Arbutus is the feelings they have for him. He later on found out the meaning of Arbutus is you are the only one I love. It was all too late when he found out their feelings were mutual. So the little boy who is a high schooler now comes to a garden for a job interview. He likes the thought of the garden because it seems that it is the only garden in Osaka that has an Arbutus tree. Just like the boy is the only one for him in his heart. He believes the forgotten memories of the person he loves will come back and that is enough to make him happy. The boy is me. 

There is an awkward silence, i didn't know if i should continue or if they were not ready to tell me i failed because my story might have been too embarrassing for them. 

"Your name is Ervin Smithy?" The interviewer asked me.

"Yes" I answered. My name is Erwin Smith actually. But I don't mind this pronunciation too; it has its own charm to it.

"Ervin-kun, at what time do you want to start working?"

"Excuse me?"

"You have to tell us the time you would like to start working so that we can make arrangements ". got the job. 

"Sir, I would like to work before classes start" I answered. 

The rest is not very important, I got the job and it's been two weeks since I've been working. I water the plants and make sure no plants are damaged. 

Presently, I'm out of my house, cycling towards the garden. My headphones are playing some weird songs. I made a new Playlist this morning as I was having breakfast, so far the Playlist is keeping me company (email me darngawneden@gmail.com for the playlist or check out 'erwin's part time job' by edentried on Spotify). The roadsides are filled with Sakura trees. I giggled at the thought that some people don't know that cherry blossom tree's fruits are cherries. 

6:00am

I have arrived in the garden, I park my cycle in the cycle parking lot. The gates are opened by me and I head towards the office that is located in the middle of the garden. There's a changing room in the office where I change into my work clothes. The red gloves remind me of a bald man who's a hero just for fun. He's more heroic than any hero that has ever stepped on this earth. Credibility is not his concern, the mere fact that he is enjoying the art of saving people and defeating monsters is enough to satisfy him. To be a hero like him would be impossible for me, or even for you(I suppose). Getting credit for our hard work is something that's really important to us, and that's okay. It just speaks how human we are. 

There are plants in the garden that can be watered by the sprinkler but some have to be given extra care. These plants that are given extra care reminds me of my younger sister who's in elementary school at the moment. I was often jealous when my parents would spend more time with her and had endless chattering together. They would tell her about their work and the new places they visited. It was what I had been wanting my whole childhood. I later found out my parents acted like this was because I wasn't interested for long. If their answers remained for two sentences longer, I was already bombarding them with the next one. I clearly didn't remember being such an annoying child, but if that was me, then I have no other option than to accept myself. But right now, as my parents are spending time with my sister, I don't feel disheartened or annoyed. She is like those plants that need extra care for now. If her parents are not there to do it, then who will? 

The garden is not very big and the employees are less. I have never met any of them. Perhaps it is due to the reason that all of our schedules are different and the workload depends on our age. 

I might have not landed this job if I didn't come running to the location on the very release of the news. But it is what it is. It's been two weeks since I've been working here and I'm loving every moment I spend watering the plants. After I'm done with my morning work, I have about thirty minutes to spare, then I head towards my school for morning classes. 

I'm done watering the plants, i go to the office, change back into my uniform and then i go to the back of the garden where a tree spends time there alone. I sit under the tree and then I take out my sketchbook that's in my bag. When I'm unzipping my bag, I see the Arbutus keychain that's dangling around the lace of my bag and I smile a little. The only reason why i can get up early for work is because of that boy. I made it a habit to get up early without even realizing it, after i met him. I guess that's what habits are about. We don't realize when we started them or when we ended them, just like our feelings for someone. 

I take out my Moleskin and start sketching with my tomboy pencil. I don't have a particular idea of what I'm drawing. My thoughts are not very focused on my drawing and I start thinking about that boy again and how fond I was of him. I wished to meet him more than anything I ever wanted in this short life that I had lived. Maybe if i save up enough money with the help of this part time job, i might be able to buy a boarding pass to India and meet him again. 

The one month that I spent with him was perhaps the best feeling I ever had. And now that I'm unable to meet him, the pain is just constantly growing. I am indeed sick of this place. At first I was disliked for my blue-ocean eyes and now somehow every girl seems to be talking about how charming and magical they look. I was called all sorts of names because of my hair now they all love it since it reminds them of Chris Evans?

Before all of this mediatic hype, that boy had already accepted me. I wouldn't say he was a head of his time, or he knew what in particular would be attractive, but what he did see was me. Before anyone did, he had already loved me for my very being. And now that he's not here, beside me, i don't get the point of it all. 

Without realizing what I'm doing, I get up and then I start talking to the tree. I say- what is the point of it all? Why am I in a world that's so wretched, a world that I didn't even wish to be? Who is this cruel God that placed me in a world where I can't even meet him? That boy. The boy I met in India. I miss him so much that even as I'm here in this garden, under the tree that I spent long hours with him, I can't meet him. Neither do i know his name and neither do i remember his face. 

I look at my Arbutus keychain and then I say, loudly, the only thing that I do remember is, he is the only one that I love. 

I sit back at the same place and open my sketchbook that I had left on the ground. I don't know what was going on in my mind at that moment. I just had to let go of that sentence that was holding me back for a very long time. 

Just when my pencil touched the paper, suddenly a huge beam of light came out of the ground. The leaves around me are flying everywhere and suddenly the ground starts sinking me in. Everything is happening too fast that by the time I grab onto the tree, I am already falling at full speed. The ground opened up wide and left me falling down, to some unknown space. I can feel the adrenaline rushing through my whole body. I don't understand what is happening, it is almost like I'm in some fantasy book. I keep falling down to where God knows. I lose consciousness and by the time i get up, I am in some unknown room in some unknown place.

\-------

Perhaps we know ourselves more than most people would do so. We understand our likes and dislikes. No one gives importance to our principles as much as we do. That is why when I get up I am confused when this man who seems to be about my age, tells me "you have awakened my Lord Erwin it is time to meet the citizens".

I realize that I am no longer in the garden but in some unknown room which smells like beagles and burnt coffee. I look out of the window and to my surprise I see flying cars and other vehicles that I have no knowledge of. 

To a certain degree I thought I was dreaming. It felt too much like it. Because everything I saw so far were things I had always dreamed of. 

It’s time to go the boy repeated. I look at him and he’s shockingly beautiful to my surprise. Is something on my face? he asks. I bite my inner lip in pure shame. how could i be so disrespectful. 

I’m sorry you were just so beautiful i got taken aback for a second, what am i saying, i never talk like this. Why is it that this man is just so captivating? I’m beautiful? How? He asks. I am as surprised as he is, but in a different sense. How is he not aware of the beauty he holds? Has no one ever told you how beautiful you are? I proceed to ask him. I have always known and even been told that i’m nothing special, be it my looks or how i represent myself. I don’t reach up to the beauty standards people would want me to reach. I am not tall, I don't have a pleasant smile and i lack social skills. Oh why are you looking at me as though you’re close to crying? Have I upset you by talking about myself to the point that your anger has formed into sadness? I remain silent for some time. 

I don’t know if i am in a dream or if what’s happening at this moment is all real. For now all I want to do is get to know who this man is and why do I feel such a strong sense of belonging with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi its eden here <3 tysm for reading my first fanfic!! I'll try to not make it so long in the next chapters. I was so excited to write this that I forgot I had exceeded the word limit I had planned for myself. I'm not sure when I'll update next but I will!! See you next chapter ♡♡♡


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